Supermarket Shenanigans
by Chronos Keeper
Summary: Bro does what any good teenage parent would do: lose his kid in the supermarket, complete with freakout.


Shit. What was the difference between Chinese peaches and Dole's peaches? The Chinese peaches were hella expensive, and came in a glass jar, but they looked like peaches alright. The mind boggled at food that didn't come premade or in a plastic container. He scrutinized the peaches, certain that if he stared at them a bit more, divine knowledge would slam into him like Zeus' mighty thundercock of inspiration.

As if.

He was practically dead on his feet. Dave had been way fussy the past few days, and his stomach was getting upset by their normal diet, so they were on a special shopping excursion with the sole purpose of finding stuff that wouldn't make the tike hurl. Added onto that was the fact he'd been marathoning his homework for the part time college course he was doing, and jumping from that to a part time worker at a wholesale Chinese goods store, and he was practically the living dead. He even had the waxy pallor down pat. Man, he hoped he hadn't caught what Dave had.

The bustle of the supermarket barely reached him, and he only gave a cursory response to the insistent tugging at his pant leg. Dave was saying something, and there was some Christmas jingles playing somewhere, and people wheeled their carts around the young man just slightly in the way who was staring fixedly at a shelf of peaches. Because that was totally where you found the Zen. It was there, in a row of peaches that he was having a hard time reading the lettering on.

Might as well consult the kid. Maybe he knows what kind he'd like.

Bro turned and looked down, opening his mouth to ask.

Only to be met with grubby patch of linoleum where the kid's sneakers had been.

A little freaked, Bro turned in place, trying to make the little fucker. And fuck fuck fuck, he's nowhere to be seen, fuck it.

Unpleasant memories, ugly memories, boiled to the surface, brought on by the eerily familiar sensation of being alone and having lot someone very important to you. Snatches of recollections of wandering stores, streets, for hours. He'd stopped crying after a few years, because his mother, when they were all alone, would seize him by one arm, shaking him, hissing at him for getting her in trouble, call him a worthless piece of shit. More than once her angry, half-whispered tirade would continue as she stomped back to the car, fastening him in with violent jerks, and once, but only once, had she stuck her face in his and growled, "I should have had that abortion."

He only learned what that word meant years later. It was still something that could wreck his shit, and he never dwelled on it.

Except for now, with a missing toddler on the hoof.

Ohgodohgoohogod

Stop

Ohgodohgod

Stop.

Stop.

Breathe.

Oh God Oh God

He still clutched a can of peaches in one hand, the entire hand white from gripping it.

Breathe.

Think.

And just like that, something seemed to slide into place, like a single drop of water hitting a puddle, rings expanding out. He took a deep breath.

He knew where Dave had gone. The kid had been on his left side when he took off running, tiny sneaker feet pattering the ground with joyful abandon. That just went to show Bro that he couldn't tune out the little ankle biter like he had been.

Bro turned sharply, dropping the peaches, heedless of whether they landed back on a shelf or not, and collecting the piecemeal pattern of Dave's burbling, he followed the smell of warm chocolate chip cookies and the sound of insanely cheerful holiday music. He rounded an aisle, and saw a few adults dressed in Christmas colors, a CD player on a table nearby, and a clutch of parents and their sprogs at the table, sampling the free baked goods.

Dave stood a little apart from them, not really near anyone, unconsciously distancing himself as if he knew he didn't belong. Saddest fucking thing Bro had ever seen. Regardless, Dave's little fists were balled in excitement, and he bounced up and down with a big grin on his face while he waited his turn. The uninhibited glee on the kid's face was as relieving as it was heartbreaking.

Well of fucking course. How could he have been so stupid. Dave wanted cookies like the other little kids, wanted to be one of them. But Bro wasn't a parent, and didn't read his brother like a parent. He read him as a younger kid, and just kind of expected the kid to stay put like some well-trained pet. He watched, standing even further away from the gaggle than his brother, lurking a little bit by a display of chips. Dave seemed to have the same sixth sense about locating his brother as Bro did, because he turned and waved enthusiastically.

He was okay.

He was even happy.

Bro was torn between being so relieved he was speechless and so frightened he was almost angry. But anger would only hurt the kid, and he didn't need that. No kid needed that.

So he nodded at his brother and loped over, crouching next to him and asking, "Hey, broski. What's happenin'?"

"Cooookies!" The squeal was accompanied by a tiny, pointing digit, indicating where the magical pastries lay.

"Ahhh," Bro acknowledged this with the appropriately hushed sageness due to the situation. "So I guess you want some?"

"Yes!"

"Okay." He reached out and scooped the toddler against himself, who automatically turned and clung to Bro, allowing Bro to lift him off the ground, settling him on his hip. "Just one thing, okay?"

Dave looked at him, glasses askew, letting his coppery red eyes peep out. He waited.

"Don't take off like that again, dig?" Bro knocked his head gently against Dave's own, prompting a giggle. "You scared the living crap outta me. 'Kay?"

"Kay!"

"Ya promise?"

A nod that jiggled his whole body. Bro got the feeling that Dave grasped perfectly what his older brother meant. So he let it go, and unselfconsciouly pressed a kiss against the round cheek. The little boy pushed at Bro's face, too excited about the sweets to permit macking in public.

Bro grinned and stepped up to the table, and asked, "Can he get a cookie?" 


End file.
